Night Cry
by Avatar3
Summary: The Story of Squall and the newest sorceresses, the Cry of the Wind and the Reaper of Souls. WIP, please RR...Can Squall find love after Rinoa? rewrite of original
1. Rising

It was one year after the defeat of Ultimecia.

The snow was falling softly outside of Squall Leonheart's studio, generously coating the shore side city of Balamb in white. Squall watched it fall, thinking to himself how quickly winter had come, and he tried to remember where he had gone wrong.

Everything was wrong; he had thought that maybe, just maybe, after saving the world and everything, that he would get his happily even after. But no. There was no happily ever after for him.

Being alone, it seemed, was fitting for him. And now, he felt more alone than he had ever before, even before the second Sorceress War.

Rinoa, his beautiful, intelligent, betraying Rinoa, had left him half a year ago, to supposedly help her father with her campaign in Galbadia. Reality spoke different, however; she had left to get away from her troubles, and from Squall. She had seen the man he really was.

She hadn't acknowledged the fact that she was a sorceress, rather hid from it. She infuriated Squall, yet he could not stop thinking about her. Sure, Selphie had tried hooking him up with some of her friends, but in the end Squall had always compared them to Rinoa, and that had had a rather dampened effect on the evening. Nothing had worked for him anymore, not in six months. Not since Rinoa left.

He had heard rumors that she was dating Seifer again, but Squall had never actually seen them together. Seifer tended to stay as far away from Balamb as possible, either out of resentment or embarrassment, Squall didn't know. Either way, he was gone, in the long run. And he had taken Rinoa with him.

But Squall was not about to chase after her. Oh no, he still had his pride, if anything, and chasing after her like a wounded puppy was not going to make things better. He had a reputation to adhere to, even if that did mean being alone.

Squall went to his bed in the next room and laid down, thinking to himself that it had been a long time since he had felt the serenity and peace that he had with Rinoa. He knew he could not spend his life wishing to be back in her arms, but it was so hard not to think of her, when every smile reminded him of her, the smell of every flower, and the ring on his finger.

Yes, she had given it back. Squall had not worn it for a long time, even after she left. It meant too much to break. But he had put it back on, and in doing so, had vowed to himself to forget her, no matter what it took. So, instead of complaining about Rinoa and his life's henceforth downward slide, he focused on his military career. He had been promoted to general after his defeat of Ultimecia, and now helped run the academy.

The others were prospering as well; Selphie was a counselor for the student body and absolutely loved it, Quistis had found her calling as the garden's nurse, after the retirement of Dr. Kadowaki, Zell, though still quite annoying, was now taking out his extensive supply of energy teaching martial arts to the junior classmen, and Irvine had gone into Foreign Relations, if only to see the many beautiful foreign women that he did.

He and Selphie had developed a tentative relationship. Not really together, but not really apart. Even so, they seemed happy, and that made Squall a combination of happy himself, and spiteful.

Squall opened his eyes to the ceiling above him and wondered; how would it be if Rinoa was still here? Yes, he missed her, more than he cared to share. He would not tell anyone how he cried at night, wishing that she were beside him; and that every time that "Eyes on Me" would play on the radio, his heart would break, and Squall would have to excuse himself from public meetings. He didn't tell anyone how he ripped out his hair when he thought about her, or how the fury would pile up in him when he found love letters and trinkets from their time together.

It had only been a handful of months! Even so, Squall knew he had been in love. He looked through his bedroom window; outside was cold and desolate, so much like his heart. Getting up and closing the blinds of the window, Squall wonder how he was ever going to get on with his life…

Elsewhere, that evening...

Irvine Kinneas was sitting across the table from the most boring group of people that he had encountered thus far.

He wasn't sure why he had gone into Foreign Affairs in the first place (women), but evidentially it had been the job for the most mundane and boring people (men). As the six other officials squabbled over too high tariffs on pottery from Trabia, Irvine sat back and yawned widely. The only female member of the Foreign Affairs committee looked over at him and frowned; Irvine smiled back. Usually, that would have some affect on ladies, but not Miss Retoo, who was easily the sternest woman that Irvine had ever laid eyes on.

Draping his head over the side of the chair, Irvine silently wished that the meeting was already over. He was concentrating, perhaps far too hard, on the ceiling tiles above when the conversation twisted around to sorceresses.

That was rare; people hardly ever talked about sorceresses anymore, perhaps out of fear that one of them would hear. In the past few months, many supposed "sorceresses" had sprung up out of nowhere. While many of them were indeed fakes, a few, supposed, natural-born sorceresses had been discovered recently. And they were just becoming aware of each other; the future of their friendships looked bleak.

"We have to address the growing problem of future fighting between these women. With their great strength, they could very well gather armies and do damage to the governments of the world." One official pointed out.

"I am sure that it will all blow over." Another replied.

Irvine shook his head; sorceresses didn't just get over things, they fought until they got what they wanted. He had learned that a year ago, when all of them had fought Ultimecia.

Even in death, she had tried to destroy them, breaking Irvine and the others apart from each other. He had felt for a long time that he was going to die, lost in the black void that he had woken up in. They had all told different stories of where they had ended up, but somehow, in the end, they had all been able to make it back to one another.

"What do you think, Mr. Kinneas? You're the expert on sorceresses here." One of the officials asked him.

Irvine raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. He had never been addressed before by the committee. "Well," he began," Something has to be done before they start fighting; I suggest that we find out who they really are, and go from there."

It was nightfall, and snow had begun to fall.

The sun had receded behind the mountains, leaving the moonrise to take hold over the sky. As Zen slowly walked up the path to Balamb Garden, she thought she felt her boot trip over a loose rock; she fell to the ground.

She didn't quite feel anything as her body hit the cold dirt. All she knew was the reeling of her mind and the drugged sensation of her being. She wasn't aware of anything in particular. She knew she needed help; she needed someone to take care of her in her time of need.

The ground was cold against the skin of Zen's arms, and it bit into her like an animal. Whatever Relice had given her was certainly doing its job now, nearly knocking Zen out of consciousness. Still, she held on, trying to remember what she had been up to.

Breathing in the cool air, Zen lifted her head off the ground. She saw the blinking lights of the academy not too far ahead of her; she had made it this far, she should be able to make the last stretch.

Trying to focus her blurring and twisted vision, Zen could make out someone coming toward her, but the strange ringing in her ears would not stop. Her headache was growing worse, too. She had not felt this out of it since she had been hospitalized in Trabia, all those years ago.

Wow, had it really been that long? What a shame it was that Zen's life had spiraled out of control so much since then. Ever since she had met that man, visiting Trabia Garden two years ago. What had his name been? Oh yes; Odine. Doctor Odine. He had told Zen that she had very peculiar qualities in her, and had taken Zen back to his lab in Esthar. It had been against Zen's will, all the same, but it had not mattered to the good doctor.

But in the crisis that had gripped Esthar a year ago, what with the second Sorceress War and all, Zen had been able to escape. She had tried going back to Trabia, but only to find that her academy had been destroyed; the only home she had ever had.

Zen's head fell to the ground again; she could hear voices through the muted hush that was her hearing. It was then, after Trabia, that the sorceresses' had started tracking her.

And Relice had found her, running from her and the others, in Dollet. After a while, she had injected Zen with something, telling her that it would get rid of the strange magical frequencies residing in Zen. But now, as Zen's head spun, she had the strange inkling that it would only kill her.

Why Zen had trusted Relice there, she didn't know. The truth was, she needed someone to trust. Zen needed a friend in this world. All the stuff that had happened to her in the past few years, there had to be some justification for it all. For her pain...

That was why she had come to Balamb. She wanted to meet the people that had stopped Ultimecia, to ask Squall Leonheart in his face why he had branded sorceresses' as evil. Why had he done this to her?

Zen heard the voices again, but she was falling into a waterfall of her own being. She couldn't focus anymore. Moments in her life came back to her; was this dying? Or was this something different?

I don't want rapture...


	2. The Cry of the Wind

Today had been slow.

There was only one occupant of the infirmary today; a strange girl who had collapsed outside of the Garden day before yesterday. She had not awakened since.

Though she had not been school nurse for very long, Quistis was very serious about her work. As she had always been willing to help people, this had turned out to be her calling, and her passion. She had dabbled in it before, but never anything permanent. After the Second Sorceress War, however, there had been unexpectedly few job opportunities. Of course, Quistis had been offered higher ranking and a chance to go back to being an instructor, but she had known that it was not for her anymore.

Looking at her patient, Quistis could not help but feel a cruel stab of jealousy. She'd do anything for hair that red. Grinning to herself, Quistis retreated back behind her desk and put her head in her hands.

Not too much happened anymore in the Garden, save the everyday accidents and sicknesses that the students came down with. But that was normal; what Quistis wouldn't give to have some excitement again! Deep down, she silently wished that the war wasn't over, terrible though it had been. Quistis wanted something more, other than take care of sick students and broken arms. There had to be someone out there that needed correcting and a good ass-kicking.

Well, there was a cult of people out there who claimed they were sorceresses, but none of them had actually proven it. It was pretty unlikely, as it were. More likely, they were fanatics, based around bringing back the sorceress of old. They were not the first, and most likely would not be the last.

Still, if they did, somehow, Quistis and the others may actually have a fight! Quistis felt the familiar surge of expectation in her blood once more and smiled. If only...

Quistis's daydream was broken by the automatic door sliding open and the Headmaster entering, followed by Squall, Irvine, and another member of the foreign affairs committee that Quistis knew by appearance but not by name.

"Headmaster." Quistis rose to her feet and saluted," Can I help you?"

In his typical way, Cid did not acknowledge her right away. Instead, he went to the stranger. She was still unconscious. Headmaster Cid surveyed her with a calm expression, but Quistis could sense worry underneath it.

He stood up straight and turned to Squall, Irvine and the committee member.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

It was Squall who replied," The informant assured me. That's her, I'm positive."

The Headmaster did not seem convinced as he looked back to the girl. Disbelief washed over his face. Quistis looked around for a moment, to each person's face, and then asked," May I ask what is going on her? This girl is my patient, she needs her rest."

Squall turned to Quistis. She could see the pain in his eyes; Quistis had been the first one that Squall told that Rinoa was leaving, and she had been the one to comfort him as best he would let her. They had grown closer in the past year. Quistis had the sneaking suspicion that she was the only person Squall would talk to.

"This "girl" is one of the newly awakened sorceresses. An anonymous informant sent a letter telling us that she was extremely dangerous and should be handed over to the Galbadian government." Squall answered, keeping his voice hard.

"A Sorceress?" Quistis questioned. She understood why Headmaster Cid had been skeptical; as she looked at the girl, Quistis couldn't help but think that she was frail and weak, too skinny and degenerated to be a Sorceress. Nice hair? Sure, but a Sorceress? That was unlikely. And besides, Quistis had detected no strong magic sense about her in all of her tests, as she pointed out to the others.

Irvine spoke up this time," Sorceresses have their own defenses. Not being able to detect what they are by tests is one of them, I've heard."

Headmaster Cid shook his head," This is all on speculation; we can't imprison this girl on a whim."

Squall seemed determined, however," The letter stated that she could cause direct damage to the academy and its students. It's my job to see that this place is secure. Are you asking me to step away from my job, Headmaster?"

"And it is my job to see to the welfare of students of all gardens, and, this insignia, tattooed on her wrist. Do you know what that is for?" Cid asked, looking around at the others, "Trabia Garden. I have a duty to protect this girl, from enemies foreign or domestic, understand?" The Headmaster commanded.

Squall nodded.

"What's her name?" Cid asked.

Squall turned on his heel and began to walk out as he replied, "The letter only referred to her as 'the Cry of the Wind'."


End file.
